My mom liked this hymn. I used to sing it for her every night, gospel style. Seeing as how it's Good Friday today, I will be singing this song inside me, everytime I think of her. She liked it, no, loved it, and despite my views of organised religion, this song is still beautiful, and it still moves me to tears, when I think of how, when none of the painkillers worked anymore, this song was the only thing that got her to sleep at night. ' Mom, may you rest in peace, and may the eternal light of love, happiness, peace and joy be with you forevermore. Mom, I'm sorry for not visiting you at the cemetery, but it's just too hard, and I can't believe you're in there, under all that earth. I want to claw you out of there and shake you alive.' Aren't I just a big baby. Six years later, and it still hurts like hell when I think of her and how she suffered when she didn't need to, didn't have to.
'Six years later and I'm still morbidly depressed when I think of you, of how you suffered, of the sight of you no longer breathing, your heart no longer beating, as you lay, silent, still, small in your huge hospital bed, of the thought that I missed the moment of your passing, that I wasn't there to hold your hand, of the sight of my brother, all shocked and dazed, as he was the only one in the hospital when you died, of the sight of Daddy and how the light in his eyes died when he heard you had died, of the sight of your body being wheeled to the hospital mortuary, hidden under a blanket and under a gurney, so that no-one we passed in the hallways of the hospital knew you were in there, and they were wondering why we all looked like we had been bombed out of our heads. And the worse thing of all, of the sight of the mortician stuffing cotton up your nostrils as you lay on the gurney, of the sight of your hands crossed over your chest and tied together with twine, your toes tagged.' WTF do they have to show the family members that?? I can't even write it out without feeling that I am teetering, tottering on the edge of sanity. The memory of how the body of this once powerful strong wonderful darling mother of mine, was now a lifeless object, all in a day's work for the mortician who forgot that I was standing there, and after I saw him stuff cottonwool up her nose, it made me flip, go over the edge. His stricken apologies when he found me standing behind him were of no use, all I could think of, all I could see, was cottonwool, twine, and toe-tags. I think I am forever, permanently, eternally scarred. My heart is dead, and my brain has been taken over by the Borg.'Nevertheless, here Ma, is your song, I will sing it for you, until Easter Sunday, every time I think of you this weekend. Though I am dead inside, and only my shell body is alive and walking. I will sing it for you, gospel style. Just the way you liked it. So here's the song, mom, and I'm singing it right now. I love you.'
Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.
'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
The world shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun refuse to shine;
But God, who called me here below,
Shall be forever mine.
When we've been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we'd first begun.